Eternal Slayer
by M. Scott Eiland
Summary: MacLeod visits Sunnydale, and has old wounds reopened. BTVSHighlander crossover.
1. Default Chapter

The following is a "crossover" story combining BTVS with the "Highlander" series universe. I am assuming an alternate world combining elements of both universes, using BTVS conventions where conflicts occur. All characters are, of course, copyrighted by their owners.  
  
Time Frame: Several days after the events of "Zeppo": about midway through season one of "Highlander: The Raven" (although Nick and Amanda do not appear; this is for the sake of timing only).  
  
  
ETERNAL SLAYER  
  
  
Part I  
  
The Mercedes' engine purred as Duncan drove up the highway in the deepening twilight. Traffic was light, contradicting the horror stories he had heard about California traffic. He rubbed his eyes: it had been a long drive, although the scenery had been lovely.   
It had been two weeks before when Amanda had stopped in unexpectedly to catch up. He had not seen her since the incident where she had been abducted by an Immortal looking for an edge against him, and in which he had the series of visions that gave him perspective on the meaning of his life. She told him of the recent events in her life, which mostly involved one Nick Wolfe in one way or another, and he reciprocated by relating the few events that had occurred in his life since their last meeting. Amanda accused him of letting the grass grow under his feet, and suggested a trip, commenting that the California coast was beautiful this time of year. After token resistance, he acknowledged the wisdom of her suggestions and packed. He had spent the last week driving up and down the coast, stopping where it suited him. He had decided to go home in three days, having satisfied his wanderlust for the time being. For now, he would need a place to stay for the night. A highway sign caught his headlights: "Sunnydale-5 miles." He pondered briefly, then decided that Sunnydale it would be. An innocuous town, where an Immortal could spend one night in a lifetime that had already numbered one hundred and fifty thousand, more or less.  
He found a motel without difficulty and checked in, stashing his luggage in the small room. He decided to stretch his legs: there was something vaguely wholesome about small towns at night, at least on the surface. Duncan quickly reached a walkway adjoining a small park and moved along it, taking in the fresh air and various greenery. Maybe I should find a place like this to dwell for awhile, he thought. After all, a place like this is well suited for staying out of tro-"Whoof!"  
The undignified sound was caused by Duncan falling hard face down on the sidewalk after being hit by a rather large piece of pipe. He recovered quickly and rolled to his feet, drawing his katana in the motion he had practiced for centuries. He expected to see a normal mugger, if perhaps a particularly stealthy one, and uttered a brief expletive when he perceived his actual opponents.  
Two figures stood on the path directly in front of Duncan, and he could see two more lurking in the shrubbery. Their features were twisted parodies of humanity, something out of a Lovecraftian nightmare. Though it had been seventy years since he had last encountered one, he immediately recognized them: vampires.  
The one in front chuckled with an undertone of uneasiness when he recognized what Duncan was holding. "I think this one's seen too many ninja flicks, guys." He leveled his gaze on the battle-ready Immortal and sneered, "You're only delaying the inevitable, pal. Easy or hard, you're going to be dinner."  
Duncan's grin was feral as he snapped back, "Try me, ugly!"  
The leader snarled and waved the vampire standing at his side to attack. He charged, preparing to duck if the human attempted a decapitating blow. Instead, Duncan dropped to the pavement, executing a perfect sweep kick that knocked the charging demon to the ground. By the time he recovered, he barely had time to begin a scream that was terminated by the katana's passage through his neck, followed by his collapse into dust.   
The eyes of the leader vampire widened briefly then narrowed in anger as he motioned his other two allies into the fray. They engaged him cautiously, using probing attacks that did not expose them to as much risk of an immediately decapitating attack. They took their occasional wound with a snarl, but did not withdraw. After about thirty seconds, one got luck and raked Duncan's left hand with a claw, drawing blood. The wound healed in about ten seconds, startling the vampire in position to notice the regeneration into dropping his guard long enough for Duncan to send the katana slicing through his neck, reducing him to dust. The other vampire quickly retreated, and Duncan whirled to face the leader. . . .   
. . . . who was pointing a large caliber automatic pistol at him.  
"I caught that little trick, " he taunted, pointing the pistol at Duncan's heart. "I've never seen one of your kind before, but I know all of the stories. Ordinarily, I don't like to waste good food, but then. . . you'll make more, won't you?" He chuckled again, then pulled the trigger.  
The horror that Duncan felt had nothing to do with the bullet that pierced his heart and sent him crashing to the pavement and into darkness.  
  
  
Buffy prowled the pathways of the park, her concentration completely devoted to listening for signs of trouble. It was her first night patrolling since she had been injured in the successful effort to close the Hellmouth after the Apocalypse demons re-opened it. Faith was MIA, as often was the case, leaving her to mind the store. She was still a little sore, and had thought of requesting some company, but the others had also been banged up in the effort, except Xander, who had to be out of town for some personal business that night. She had decided that she was fit, and had left her house at dusk over her mother's objections. The patrol had been uneventful thus far, which surprised her; after all, the streets had been Slayer-free for three nights running. Surely, something would take advantage of the opportunity to-  
The crack of a gunshot shattered the silence, and Buffy was galvanized into action, covering one hundred yards before being consciously aware of running towards the sound. She slowed and moved behind cover as she approached the scene, not wishing to be killed by a mugger only days after having survived what would have been the end of the world, no matter how delicious the irony. She quickly spotted the center of activity and froze in anger and horror for a moment.  
A vampire was bent over a supine figure on the sidewalk, his teeth fixed in his throat. After a moment, he raised his head and let out an eerie bellow that reverberated around the park. Too angry to dwell on the weirdness of the vamp's behavior, Buffy charged with a stake at the ready.  
She had hoped to catch him off guard, but the swiftness of the blow that sent her hurtling into a bush ten feet away made it quite clear she had not. She regained her feet and stared daggers at the vampire, who was regarding her with amused contempt. "You picked a bad night to run into me, Slayer. I've come into some power, you see-great power. Unfortunately for you, I can't think of a better thing to do than to kill you with it and set myself up as the head man of this town. Whaddya think?"  
Buffy pondered the question for a moment, noting while she did that the man lying on the sidewalk was clearly dead with a large caliber bullet wound in the chest as well as the now dry fang wounds in the throat. Damn, when did they start using guns? Except for that awful night when Darla had tried to kill her, she had never run across a gun-toting vampire: they seemed to take it as a matter of pride to kill with their hands, teeth, or perhaps a hand to hand weapon. She met his gaze and replied sardonically, "I'm supposed to be quaking in my boots at the sight of a vamp who needs to go militia to take out some tourist?"  
The vampire looked back at the body on the sidewalk and laughed, "Oh, him. He's a special case. Don't worry, little Slayer. I won't need that little toy to kill you: I'm beyond that now." He dropped the gun to the pavement and advanced on her, a broad smile on his inhuman features.  
Buffy didn't move as the supremely confident vampire moved towards her, intending to tear her limb from limb. He saw her raise the stake in her hand as she approached and prepared to sweep it aside with a contemptuous gesture. Buffy brought the stake back, then paused, dropping and diving between the vampire's widely spaced legs, coming to her feet behind the startled vampire. Before he could react, Buffy kicked him squarely in the chest, knocking him back into a tree. He was preparing to leap at her to rend her to bits when he felt the sharp pain in his chest. He was in the process of noticing the broken tree limb protruding through his chest when he exploded into dust.  
Buffy couldn't suppress a brief grin, despite the grim circumstances. Nothing beats the golden oldies. Her mood quickly darkened as she looked back at the body on the sidewalk. Reluctantly, she moved to give the body one final examination before she called 911 and reported back to Giles. He would want to hear about this, there had been something strange about that vampire.  
As she leaned over the body, she noted that he had been quite a looker. Tall, dark, and handsome, not to mention that he obviously knew about the inside of a gym. He was wearing a dark trenchcoat, and at his side, still in his right hand. . . a sword? Yeah, Giles is going to want to hear about this.  
Buffy's musings were interrupted by a loud gasp. She whirled to find herself looking into the startled eyes of the "dead" man. He shoved her away and rolled to his feet, bringing the katana with him. Oh no, not another one was her first thought. He had become a vampire. She pulled out her stake, preparing to plunge the stake into his heart before he could bring the deadly katana to bear. Abruptly, she paused. In the past, whenever a new vampire had risen in her presence, it had worn its true face, reflecting the raging hunger a new vamp suffered until it had fed for the first time. The stranger standing before her ready to bisect her remained damned good looking; in fact, more so, since he had regained his color and the horrific wounds that had marred his body had abruptly vanished. Puzzled, she hesitated.  
For his part, Duncan was also puzzled. His last memory was of the vampire shooting him: he had expected to wake up in rather unpleasant confinement. He had not expected to awaken to the sight of a rather attractive young woman examining his "corpse." When he recovered from the shock and got to take a clear look at her, he realized that she was somehow triggering his paranormal senses. Was she Immortal? He quickly realized that the feeling was different: where had he felt it before? A moment's reflection retrieved the memory, and he smiled. Boy, were you lucky tonight! Duncan assumed his most charming smile and bowed to Buffy, who looked uncharacteristically perplexed. He commented, "I suppose you would like an explanation of what just happened, miss."  
Buffy was unable to reply for a moment, caught utterly off guard. After a moment, she managed a nod and replied, "I'd say that's a pretty safe guess, considering I know you were dead two minutes ago. You're not a vamp, so what's your game, Dead Boy?" She winced at the unintentional borrowing of the phrase that Xander used to annoy Angel, but she had to admit it fit.  
Duncan smiled again and replied, "I'll tell you, but I think that there is someone else who will want to hear this. Why don't you take me to your Watcher, Miss . . . ?"  
After a moment, she managed to whisper "Buffy."  
Duncan raised an eyebrow, then continued, "All right, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, and I think your Watcher will be able to shed more light on this situation. Why don't you take me to him or her?"  
Buffy stared at him for fully ten seconds before starting down the path, gesturing for Duncan to follow. Duncan chuckled inwardly at the girl's bemusement, then sheathed his katana and followed. He sobered quickly as he reflected on the narrowness of his escape, and also on the rising prickling on the back of his neck that told him something else was amiss in this town. He put the feeling aside and left the park with the Slayer.  
  
  



	2. Part II

Part II  
  
Giles emitted a most un-librarian like snarl that caused Willow to look up from the spell book she was examining with a concerned expression. Giles smiled somewhat sheepishly and explained apologetically, "Sorry. I just found this." He displayed the shredded remains of an obscure text on the role of blood sacrifice in fifteenth century utopian cults that he had found among the wreckage left by the Hellmouth demon. "This was one of only three copies in existence, and it's so much mulch now." He tossed it into the pile of splintered wood and other debris with considerable force, causing a loud crash that caused Oz to look up at the commotion.  
Willow smiled sympathetically and commented, "That's a shame: that was an interesting volume. We did scan that one into the computer, so the material isn't lost, if that's any consolation."  
Giles grimaced and replied, "A small one, at best. Still, I see that we have to thank Jenny for overriding my sensibilities in that matter." He smiled wistfully, as he always did when he thought of his lost love, casualty of Angel's briefly lost soul.  
Sensing a need to change the subject, Oz asked, "Have you heard from Buffy yet?"   
"No." Giles replied curtly, then remembered his manners and elaborated, "I didn't want her to go out just yet: even a Slayer's recuperative abilities can be taxed. She insisted, and wouldn't hear of anyone accompanying her. She should be fine, but. . .perhaps I should check to see how she's doing."  
"Doing fine and in good health." The familiar voice came from the open doorway, drawing smiles from Giles and Willow and a nod from the less-demonstrative Oz. Buffy moved into the library, stopping to lean against the counter before continuing, "Unfortunately, I'm also more confused than I've been since my last trig final." She turned and called, "Come on in."  
A tall figure walked into the room. Giles' first thought was that Angel had accompanied Buffy on patrol, but despite the similarity in dress, this man was clearly not the cursed vampire. Tall, broad-shouldered, and despite a good effort at concealment, Giles could discern the outline of the sword under the expensive trenchcoat. He coughed, at a loss for a moment, then offered, "I don't believe we've met, Mr...?""  
"I am-" began Duncan, but was cut off by Buffy: "Later for that, all right? Giles, I found this guy dead from a bullet through the heart and from being some dim-witted vamp's dinner. Two minutes later, he gets up, fresh as a daisy. Next, he tells me that you might be able to shed some light on the situation. Well?"  
Taken aback by Buffy's bluntness, Giles was again temporarily at a loss for words. He coughed again, and offered, "I take it he's not a vampire?"  
"If I thought he was a vampire, would I be here interrupting your book salvage party?" replied Buffy sardonically. "He rose too fast, and he didn't have the look. Any other thoughts?"  
"Ahem." Duncan felt the need to interrupt: the young Slayer looked annoyed enough to continue this line of questioning for some time, and he decided to spare her and the Watcher further difficulty. "I gather you are her Watcher, Mr. . . . Giles, is it? I am Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod, and unless the standards of the Watchers have lapsed in the last century, you will know who I am."  
Giles' face went blank for fully five seconds before his well-ordered mind put together the tall stranger's appearance and gear with a Watcher's diary he had read some fifteen years before. His eyes widened with surprise and fascination. "You're an Immortal, then? I read the diary of Anthony Richards, but I half dismissed the tales as too fantastic, even with the other reports I read. . . "  
"Hey!" Duncan and Giles turned to look at the now seriously irritated looking Slayer. "For those of us who don't even have the Cliff's Notes, how about a little more detail, okay? What's an Immortal?"  
Giles began to open his mouth, but was interrupted again, this time by Willow. "Immortals are humans who are born with an unusual ability to regenerate after suffering severe, even fatal injuries. The reports that I read indicate that they have a potentially unlimited lifespan, unless they are killed by decapitation. Unfortunately, their idea of a good time seems to be getting into sword fights, ending with one losing his head to the other." She turned to Giles, and asked with a grin, "Would that about sum it up, Giles?"   
Giles experienced a moment of ambivalence, torn between his usual admiration for Willow's research skills and concern for just how much of his private collection she had managed to absorb: some of the books contained dangerous knowledge. "Right on target, Willow, " he responded, resolving to carefully conceal some of the more arcane works in his office, "but there are specific details relating to this particular Immortal, assuming he is who he claims to be." He turned to Duncan and met his eyes. "If you are who you claim to be, then you will know the name of the woman I am thinking of at this moment."  
Duncan smiled, and replied, "Danielle Marlowe." Giles paused a moment, then nodded. "Correct." He extended his hand to Duncan, who shook it with a firm grip.  
The moment was interrupted by the hissing sound of Buffy blowing air through her lips, again causing the two men to look at her. "I'm getting a little sick of feeling like I left my decoder ring at home! All right, so you're some Immortal refugee from a Ginsu ad: that's fine by me. But who is Danielle Marlowe, and why is Giles looking at you like you're the second coming of Paul McCartney?"  
Giles' cluck of annoyance was interrupted by the entrance of Xander, who piped in with, "Hey, Buffy, I got back early and I thought you might like a little back up tonight." He saw the tall dark-haired man in a trenchcoat with his back to the door, and his well-trained reflex kicked in: "Hey, Dead Boy! What's up?" He was surprised when the figure turned, revealing not an annoyed Angel but a puzzled stranger. Xander's eyes narrowed, taking in the new arrival. "Sorry, thought you were someone else. By the way, who are you?"  
Several minutes were consumed in catching Xander up, with Willow and Giles filling in the gaps until Buffy's patience reached its end. She stalked up to Duncan and glared up at him. "Now can we hear what the deal is with you, or what?"  
Duncan smiled sympathetically, and replied, "I think I can manage that. It all started with a business trip to London and a broken carriage wheel. . . "  
  
LONDON: JULY, 1895  
  
Duncan strolled along the side street, his skin prickling in the cool night air. The coachman had apologized profusely and assured him that the carriage would be ready to go by morning. Duncan had reassured him that that would be fine, and asked the relieved man to arrange for his bags to be taken to a nearby hotel. While this was being done, Duncan decided to stretch his legs. In spite of his ingrained clan prejudice against the English, he had always enjoyed walking through the streets of London, taking in its many sights.  
Abruptly, Duncan heard the sounds of a brawl ahead: it sounded like about ten people or so. Duncan moved towards the sound, ready to reach for his concealed katana if the need arose. The sight that greeted his eyes as he rounded the corner of a warehouse froze his blood.  
Twelve figures surrounded a single woman in an open area next to the warehouse. She was tall, dark-haired, and obviously very beautiful. She was also in big trouble, as Duncan could also see that the figures who threatened her had visibly distorted features-vampires! As the scene unfolded before him, two thoughts raced through his mind. Firstly, how was she holding them off? Twelve vampires were far more than anyone should be able to hold off, even with the well-sharpened stake in her hand. Yes, she was obviously losing, with half a dozen obvious wounds on her body, but she was still alive and fighting. The second thought was far more immediate and thrust the first one aside for later examination. Vampires were for killing: he had hated them with a passion for several years, due to a previous unpleasant encounter. Silently drawing his blade, Duncan crept behind the mob and moved to the attack. At the last second, a wary vampire shouted a warning, but too late. The ultra-sharp blade moved in an arc, and two vampires collapsed into dust. With a snarl, four vampires turned to engage the new enemy, and Duncan heard what sounded like a grunted "thank you" from the young woman as she regrouped for a new offensive.  
The fight was fast, and brutal. Even fighting cautiously, the vampires were able to wound Duncan with occasional claw rakes, although the wounds healed quickly, disconcerting the demonic creatures. Duncan could see that the woman was fighting back, and even saw a vampire grimace before bursting into a cloud of dust. But she was receiving more wounds, and her time was clearly running out. Duncan redoubled his efforts, and vampires began losing their heads. When only five vampires remained between the two combatants, Duncan saw them share a look, then snarled in anger as they fled at a high rate of speed. Duncan started after them, only to hear a moan and the sound of a body falling to the ground. Shamed by his temporarily misplaced priorities, Duncan moved over to the stricken young woman.  
"It'll be all right, miss," he soothed as he tried to bind her wounds with strips torn from his coat, "I'll get you to a doctor."  
She reached up and grabbed his arm with strength that astonished him even as it faded and her arm dropped back to the ground. "No doctor. . ." she mumbled, obviously desperately trying to get the words out before she passed out, ". . .take me to Anthony Richards. . . 345 Adams Street. . . please, hurry." She slumped, unconscious.   
He was puzzled: why would she refuse medical attention? He finished binding her wounds: Adams Street was close by. He picked her up and carried her five blocks to what looked like an eighteenth century manor house. He used the ornate knocker to loudly announce his presence, and in a moment a staid looking butler answered the door. His eyes widened and he exclaimed, "My word! Miss Marlowe! Please, bring her in. I'll fetch Lord Richards." He vanished from the room as Duncan placed the young woman on a comfortable looking sofa. He had finished arranging her when a deep voice asked bluntly, "What happened to her?"  
Duncan was at a loss for a moment as he turned to face the speaker. Lord Richards was a middle-aged man with graying black hair and piercing blue eyes: he seemed used to getting quick answers to any questions he asked. However, saying that the young woman had been attacked by vampires seemed to be a rather dangerous option, given that this man could probably pick up a phone and call twenty policemen to drag him off to an asylum. Still, no useful lie came to mind, and he replied, "She was attacked by vampires," then winced as he anticipated an unhelpful response.  
The man nodded and inquired, "How many?" Duncan explained the circumstances of the fight, and that she had requested that he bring her here. Lord Richards nodded and stated, "You acted correctly in bringing her here, Mr. MacLeod. I have means of treating her that a doctor would not."  
Duncan watched him as he brought out a small case of salves and elixirs and began to treat the stricken young woman. He was silent for a moment, until he could not refrain from speaking any more. "Look, I just saw her holding off a dozen vampires: that just isn't done! Who is she? For that matter, who in hell are you?"  
Lord Richards looked up from his patient and locked eyes with MacLeod. After a moment, he replied, "Mr. MacLeod, I am a very powerful man. It is within my power to have you removed from these premises, and to have you indefinitely confined if you cause me trouble. However, you have saved Danielle's life, and for that I am eternally grateful. Furthermore, casual observation suggests that you are a man who can keep a secret." He inclined his head at Duncan, obviously looking at the bloody tears in his clothing, and at the visibly unmarked flesh underneath. "I will tell you about her, and you will tell me something about what makes you different. . . Immortal."  
Duncan hesitated for a moment: should he simply walk out the door and refuse the exchange, or resolve the mystery that had confronted him. Unable to resist, he simply stated, "I agree."  
Lord Richards nodded and smiled, then turned to Danielle, who had opened her eyes and was shakily sitting up. "She is Danielle Marlowe, the Vampire Slayer," he explained, ignoring the shocked look in her eyes, "on whom the safety of us all often hangs."  
  
  
  
Duncan paused in his account, and drank a glass of water that Oz had brought over. After a moment it was Willow who impatiently burst out with "What happened next?"  
Duncan smiled at the young woman's enthusiasm and summarized: "After I concluded my business in London, I stayed at Lord Richards' residence for two months. He told me of the lore of the Slayers, and of the Watchers' Council and I told him of the lore of the Immortals that I knew personally, together with accounts I had heard of Immortals coming into contact with the supernatural. Danielle healed quickly, and we spent some time together, both on duty and off." He coughed, obviously not wanting to elaborate, and no one chose to press the issue. "At the end of two months, I had to leave, and we all parted on good terms. I never saw either of them again." He turned to Giles and asked, "Mr. Giles, I always wondered, and I never was able to find out: what happened to Danielle and Lord Richards?"  
Giles' expression was sympathetic as he said gently, "They were ambushed a large group of vampires six months later while on patrol. They were both killed." He put his hand on the Immortal's shoulder and whispered, "I'm sorry."  
Buffy saw the genuine sadness in Duncan's eyes and wondered what it would be like to mourn the death of someone who died a full century before. Involuntarily, she thought of Angel and the burden he carried. Relieved to know that Duncan was an ally, not a potential problem, and wanting to take his mind off of a sad moment, she commented cheerily, "I guess the Slayers owed you one, Duncan."  
Duncan, recognizing an attempt to cheer him up, grinned and replied, "If you want to think of it that way, that's up to you, Buffy. I'm still quite grateful."  
Xander burst in with, "So, you guys go around cutting each other's heads off, huh? What's that all about?"  
Taken aback by the bluntness of the question, Duncan nonetheless started to explain when the sound of the library doors swinging open caused him to pause. Angel burst into the room, and did not wait for greetings: "Buffy, Giles. There's a major commotion going on at one of the cemeteries. . ."  
Buffy was glad to see Angel apparently recovered from the ordeal of defeating the Hellmouth demon and smiled broadly, only to pause in surprise as she saw the changing expression of Duncan, whose back was to the door. At first, a puzzled look of trying to place something, then dawning realization, and finally-incandescent rage. He whirled to face Angel, and both men seemed to share a moment of total recognition. The look on Duncan's face was of complete outrage: Angel's was of complete shock. Before anyone else could react, Duncan charged the stunned vampire with an incoherent roar.  
  
To be continued. . .   
  
As before, comments are welcome and desired.  
  
M. Scott Eiland  
  



	3. Part III

Part III  
  
  
Duncan reached Angel and backhanded him across the face, knocking him to the ground as the enraged Immortal shouted, "You bastard!" Giles recovered from his momentary paralysis first, his ambivalence over Angel being attacked being quickly resolved in favor of intervening by the sense that something was seriously wrong here. "Now see here, MacLeod, " he began as he grabbed the Immortal's arm and tried to pull him away from the downed vampire. He got no more out as a large fist struck him on the point of the jaw and sent him crashing into unconsciousness. Dismissing the Watcher from his mind, Duncan turned back to his enemy, drawing his sword as he did so. Looking into the eyes of his downed foe, Duncan saw no trace of the sadism and pure evil he remembered, only sadness and resignation. While this puzzled him, he only hesitated a moment before raising his katana to sever the waiting neck. . .   
A powerful blow from behind rocked him, and he felt his consciousness begin to slip away. With great effort, he turned around, and his last sight before falling into darkness was Buffy's angry face. He fell face down onto the floor, the heavy crossbow bolt protruding from his back. After watching the fallen Immortal for a moment, Buffy put down the crossbow that Giles' distraction had given her time to pick up, load, and fire. She was utterly infuriated, and was advancing on the still body with angry intent when she heard Angel say weakly, "Buffy, don't."   
  
"What do you mean, don't?" Buffy snarled, glaring momentarily at her love before remembering that he wasn't the one she was angry at. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't dump him in the park for wandering vamps to feed on!"   
  
Angel's next three words stopped Buffy short, bringing back that infinitely unwelcome emotion that she had felt many times since that night when Angel had explained to Buffy who and what he was: "He had cause."   
  
PARIS, FRANCE: 1880   
  
Duncan strolled down the dimly lighted Paris boulevard, whistling a cheerful tune. He was looking forward to seeing the charming young woman who had pressed a paper with an address on it in his hand the night before. He was so pleased with himself that he failed to see the figure in front of him until he almost walked into him. "Excuse me," he started, only to notice that the person in front of him had features that were only remotely human. He cursed inwardly, realizing that a vampire had found him.   
  
The vampire smiled, or so it looked, and commented, "Well, well, what have we here? Oh, I know: you're dinner. The creature advanced on Duncan, only to pause when Duncan drew his katana and interposed it between himself and the now wary vampire. They squared off, and began a probing hand to hand combat that went on for several minutes. Duncan scored with a slash to the right arm .   
"Bloody hell!" snarled the vampire, while the demon scored with minor wounds to the body and left arm. A figure watched from the shadows, noting the wounds and that they healed almost immediately. After a few more seconds, the figure stepped into the open, leveled a pistol, and fired.   
  
Duncan gasped as the bullet pierced his heart. The katana clattered to the pavement, and he turned to face his attacker. He saw a young man with a handsome face and endless malice in his dark eyes. He collapsed to the sidewalk and did not move again.   
  
The vampire glared at the newcomer and snapped, "What the bloody hell did you do that for, Angelus? I could have taken him-you just wasted a good kill!"   
  
Angelus looked at Spike for a moment, but his only answer before picking up the crumpled Immortal in a fireman's carry was a cold, enigmatic smile.   
------   
Angel paused at this point: he looked too overcome to continue. Buffy had removed the crossbow bolt and handed the vicious sword to the still-groggy Giles. She looked over her shoulder and met his eyes, easily seeing the depth of guilt in them. She swallowed and asked, "What did you do to him then, Angel?"   
  
"I can answer that."   
  
Buffy whirled to see that Duncan was sitting up, watching them with a look that seemed more resigned than anything. Buffy was puzzled for a moment, then realized that for a man to live for centuries, he would have to learn to take situations as he found them in order to make the best of them. Unarmed, outnumbered, he would talk rather than fight. . .for now. "All right, " she replied, indicating that she too would be willing to talk rather than fight for the moment, "what did he do to you, Duncan?"   
  
Duncan spoke in an even, flat tone, locking eyes with Angel as he did so: "When I woke up, I was chained to a wall in a room. There were three vampires in the room: the two I had seen, who I found out were named Angelus and Spike, and a beautiful woman who was obviously quite mad. . .I believe her name was Drusilla. Angelus laughed when he saw that I had awakened and said that I would be of great use to them. That is where it began. Every night for six months-they drained me. Over and over again, until they were glutted."   
  
"They gave me enough food and water so my body didn't simply go into dormancy, but no more. I knew no peace, even when the sun came out and they left me alone in the room, for I knew that they would be back again when nightfall came. That was my existence for six months."   
  
Buffy was appalled, as she had not been since she heard Angel tell her about Dru. She looked around at the rest of the room. Willow looked to be near tears, and a grim-looking Oz was gripping her arm. Giles had removed his glasses and was polishing them in a way that clearly was meant to substitute for the need to react to Duncan's account. Even Xander was silent, too caught up in the narrative to think of using it as a way of tormenting Angel. And Angel. . .the guilt of it was naked on his face. She realized how awful this had to be for him. It had been bad enough when the First Evil had tormented him with the shades of his dead victims; now, here was one of those long-ago victims in the flesh to accuse him of unspeakable atrocities.   
  
Buffy walked up to Angel and put her hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up at her. "Angel, why did Angelus do that? What was the point of keeping Duncan when they could have just hunted normally?"   
  
"Power." The question was answered by Giles, who seemed mostly recovered from Duncan's right cross. He watched Angel intently as he explained, "There is great power in the blood of an Immortal-you discovered that yourself when you fought the vampire that attacked Duncan in the park."   
  
Buffy nodded in agreement, and Giles continued, "If it is only a matter of one feeding, or a few, that power is a temporary matter. However, if a vampire can feed on an Immortal or Immortals for an extended period of time, the increase in power, both physical and paranormal, will be permanent, and will increase as the feedings continue."   
  
The silence in the room was profound. Buffy thought of two dead Slayers, known victims of William the Bloody, AKA Spike. She thought of the threat that Angelus had posed to the very world until Willow had managed to re-curse him. Most specifically, she thought of Kendra dying in her arms, victim of Drusilla's powerful hypnotic abilities and a sharpened claw. How much tragedy was directly attributable to Duncan's victimization by Angelus? She looked at Angel, and could tell that that those thoughts were foremost in his mind, also.   
  
------   
  
THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE, OAKWOOD CEMETERY   
  
Faith drifted through the edges of the cemetery, casually glancing around as she reveled in the sheer joy of being able to patrol again. She was still reveling in the aftermath of the battle with the Hellmouth demon, even if the again dislocated shoulder and the fractured hand had taken a little of the edge off of the enjoyment for a few days. Still, the remarkable healing ability that was the Slayer's birthright had done its job, and she had decided to start here before swinging by the library to check in with Giles and see if she could hook up with Buffy. As much as she reveled in the nightly battles that were a Slayer's stock in trade, she had to admit it was nice to have backup. Plus, Buffy had done her a favor by clueing her in on that stupid Watcher's test that had almost gotten the older Slayer and her mother killed. Those bastards had actually fired Giles! Sure, he could be a pain, but at least he had never crossed her, and that was something she couldn't say about many people, including Buffy. Faith shrugged mentally and thought * We'll see what happens. *  
  
The sound of raised voices distracted Faith from her musing. She moved towards the sound and soon came into sight of two figures standing in a clearing just outside the cemetery. One was a man of medium height with short red hair: he wore a trenchcoat and was wielding what looked like a medieval European broadsword. The other was a tall woman with long flowing blond hair: she wore loose robes and did not have a weapon out, though Faith's keen eyes spotted what looked like a weapon underneath the robes.   
  
"There's no point in evading me further, lady," the man snarled, pointing the blade at the woman's throat a few feet away, "We're no longer on holy ground, and I will have your head."   
Well, this is different thought Faith. She considered intervening, but realized that she didn't actually know what was going on. Besides, this might be cool to watch.   
  
"Please, don't do this," the woman pleaded. ". . . I can't do this again, not again. Damn you, I don't want to kill you!"   
  
The man's face narrowed in contempt, and he spat out, "Don't worry, you won't." Then his blade was in motion, speeding for the woman's unprotected throat. . .   
  
...only to be blocked by the blade that was seeming drawn instantaneously into a perfect parrying position. The woman back-pedaled, and the man began a furious series of attacks that seemed calculated to shred her into pieces. However, the attacks were all deflected with an ease that caused chills to go down Faith's spine as she watched. Her blade seemed to float, turning aside the heavy broadsword with barely a whisper of sound. For several minutes, this continued with little variety in pattern, and Faith could see that the red-haired man was becoming increasingly frustrated.   
Abruptly, Faith saw the woman's expression change from despair to a cold mask of fatalism and determination. There was a quick blur of motion, and Faith was shocked to see the man's body fall to one side as his head came tumbling to the ground on the other. Her memory, aided by her enhanced senses, allowed her to reconstruct the move moments after it had happened: she had feinted, drawing his guard, then switched hands and did a 360 degree spin, bringing the blade around to slice through his neck from the unprotected flank. It had been an awesomely efficient move that she could not imagine duplicating, and had been performed with a speed that she had never seen anyone but Buffy and herself display.   
  
The woman fell to her knees next to her foe, and wept as an odd mist began to form around the corpse. Electrical energy began to flicker around the scene, and Faith's reflex was to dive behind a tombstone for cover-since the incident with Gwendolyn Post she had had several nightmares about being reduced to a smoking corpse by lightning. Peeking around from cover, she saw the lightning strike the woman over and over again: it did not seem to harm her physically, but after a moment she let out a scream that made Faith wince-it sounded like her soul was on fire. The electricity faded away, and the woman, still on her knees, dropped her face into the grass. Faith could hear her sobbing.   
  
Faith got up and began to walk towards the prostrate warrior. Empathy was definitely not one of her traits, but even she could tell that this woman was suffering some awful torment. She stopped five feet from the sobbing figure and called out, "Hey! Are you okay. . .?"   
  
The woman looked up, and Faith saw madness in her eyes in the split-second before a foot struck her in the chest and knocked her into a tree twenty feet away. She recovered quickly, only to see the crazed woman charging at her to attack with bare hands. *All right, let's see what she's got. *  
  
The experience was not pleasant. Faith tried to go on the offensive, only to find that her blows were being deflected as effortlessly as she had been parrying the deceased swordsman's attacks. Also, she was taking some rather hard punches, reminding her of her recent battle with the Apocalypse demon. She switched to defensive fighting, which reduced the number of bruises for a while, but after a few more minutes, she caught a punch on the point of the jaw, and the world greyed out for a moment. When her vision cleared, she found she was sitting on the grass, looking up at a sword pointed at her throat. She looked at the eyes of her opponent and saw that madness still reigned. Realizing her situation was hopeless, she met her invincible foe's eyes and defiantly waited for death.   
  
Abruptly, the woman's face changed expression-she seemed to be realizing something. She looked intently at Faith for a moment, then muttered a word that Faith didn't understand. After a moment more, she put her sword away and fled, leaving a corpse and a deeply confused Slayer in her wake.   
  
Faith stared after her, then waited another moment or two before starting over to the library in the hope that Giles might have some answers. Still, the moment seemed to require verbal comment, and Faith gave vent to it before leaving the area: "What in the hell was that!"   
  
As always, comments are welcome and desired.   
  
  
  



	4. Part IV

Part IV  
  
  
  
SCHOOL LIBRARY-FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER   
  
Buffy looked over at Duncan, and he could see that the anger was gone, replaced by compassion, and a degree of hurt for some reason he could not identify. She asked quietly, "How did you escape, Duncan?"   
  
To everyone's surprise, Duncan smiled wistfully before replying, "An old friend picked the right time to walk by."   
  
PARIS, FRANCE: EARLY 1881   
  
Duncan dangled from his chains: he had long given up the attempt to break the thick steel manacles and three inch chain that fastened him to the wall. Another day where he would stare at the walls, watching the sunlight gradually move around the room, only to eventually vanish and mark the beginning of a new round of torment. His eyes blurred momentarily with unshed tears, and he almost missed the furtive motion at the doorway of the room. His eyes refocused and he looked to the door: who could it be? He abruptly noticed that his paranormal senses were telling him an Immortal was nearby. Panic set in: he was a dead man if an Immortal decided to take his head now!   
  
The intruder pushed the door open and sunlight streamed in, obscuring the man's features in silhouette as he approached. Abruptly, the new arrival chuckled. "Duncan," he tsked, "what have you gotten yourself into, my boy?"   
  
"Fitz!" Duncan recognized the voice of his old friend and saw his puzzled face as he walked up to the chained Immortal. He calmed himself and managed to ask evenly, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to get me out of here?"   
  
"I think that can be arranged," replied Fitz, walking over to a nearby desk, "since the geniuses who locked you up seem to have left the keys right here." He grabbed the key-ring and proceeded to release Duncan, who collapsed into a heap. Fitz helped him up and began walking him to the door, continuing, "It's going to cost you a fifth of the good stuff, though. After all, if I hadn't ignored my better judgement in trying to find out what an Immortal was doing in this abandoned building, where would you be?"   
  
Duncan grimaced, and replied, "I'll tell you over that fifth, Fitz. In fact, I think I'll be joining you with one of my own."   
  
Fitz took in Duncan's condition: filthy, unshaven, and white as a sheet, and commented "I would say that is a good plan, my boy. Maybe even two." Duncan chuckled ruefully as they left the building that had been his prison for six months.   
  
------   
  
Duncan concluded and took another swallow from the glass of water in front of him, all the while fixing a glare on Angel. Able to restrain himself no more, he turned to Buffy and asked, "Buffy, you're the Slayer, for God's sake. I know what that means more than most people do. How can you associate with this. . .monster?"   
  
Buffy had to pause a moment before answering him. It was one thing to deal with questions of this sort from her friends, even though she knew they had all suffered at the hands of Angelus. It was another matter altogether to hear it from Duncan, who she knew to be a genuine hero who had suffered greatly at the hands of Angelus also, without knowledge of any of Angel's later mitigating actions. She took a breath and told him briefly of the circumstances of the curse, and of all that Angel had done for the group. She omitted the story of the several months Angel had been soulless and the horrible consequences that had resulted. When she finished, Xander was about to point out the omission when he noticed Buffy was giving him the same stare she had used to send the vampires scurrying out of the Bronze after she slew Luke and stopped the Harvest. He abruptly decided that he had cheated death far too many times that week to tempt fate yet again, and remained silent.   
  
For his part, Duncan listened to the story with complete attention. Although he sensed that Buffy was holding something back, he believed that she was telling him at least the core of the truth. He also looked at Angel and noted that there seemed to be not a trace of the cruelty and malice that were the hallmarks of his old tormentor. He remembered incidents in his recent past: the Dark Quickening that had driven him to several dark acts culminating in the cold blooded murder of an unarmed friend, and the patience that Methos had shown in coaxing him back to sanity. He remembered being tricked into killing Richie, and the anguish and desire to atone that that had caused in him. He looked again at Angel, and his expression was softer, though still not gentle by any means. "All right, Buffy," he said, turning back to the Slayer, "I'm never going to be a big supporter of your friend over there, but his head is safe from me for now."   
  
Buffy looked carefully at him for a moment, then turned to Giles and nodded. Giles carefully handed Duncan the katana, and he sheathed it without so much as looking in Angel's direction. Relieved, Buffy suddenly remembered that Angel had not had the opportunity to explain his presence. "What's the emergency, Angel?"   
  
Greatly relieved at the opportunity to change the subject, Angel explained, "There was a major electrical disturbance near the Oakwood Cemetery about ten minutes before I got here. With a clear sky, I suspected something odd was going on, and the identity of your guest confirms it."   
  
Duncan reacted immediately, turning to Giles: "A Quickening?"   
  
Giles frowned and replied, "You would know better than I, but it certainly sounds like it."   
  
Buffy interrupted, sensing a return to the land of cryptic references: "Stop! What's a Quickening?"  
  
Duncan smiled in understanding and replied, "Actually, this ties into the question Xander asked before we were...ah...interrupted. When one Immortal kills another by taking his head, it results in a massive release of energy that we refer to as the Quickening."   
  
Giles interrupted, asking "It is a source of power to Immortals, correct?"   
  
Duncan nodded and replied, "Yes. The older the slain Immortal, and the more Quickenings he has taken before he himself is slain, the more power is involved." He hesitated, and commented, "I can't say I'm surprised. I thought I felt a faint sense of an Immortal presence when Buffy was taking me here from the park, but it was too faint to fix on. . .and it felt odd, somehow. Nothing I could put my finger on, though."   
  
Buffy jumped to her feet and commented, "Okay, I think we know enough to go out and take a look. Let's get over there while there might still be something to find. It's too bad that Faith isn't around, we could use her right now."   
  
"It's so nice to feel wanted." The voice came from the doorway, and everyone turned to see Faith in the open doorway. Willow gasped when she saw the younger Slayer, and everyone was startled at her appearance. Her top was torn in several places, and there were ugly bruises on her right cheek and mouth, not to mention a fresh black eye. Xander reflexively moved in her direction, only to move more cautiously when he realized there was an audience. Duncan also moved quickly towards Faith, only to pause in puzzlement when he noticed she was triggering his paranormal senses.   
  
Buffy noted his confusion and confirmed his suspicions: "She's a Slayer, Duncan, not just a damsel in distress."   
  
Truly confused now, Duncan retorted, "Wait a second-there's only supposed to be one Slayer at a time-"   
Buffy cut him off: she hated this topic. "Long story. Involves me drowning. Let's not deal with it now, okay?"   
Faith looked over at Xander with an "I'm all right" look, then turned to the tall stranger and gave him the once-over. "Hey B," she purred, "do I get an introduction, or what?"   
  
Buffy took a few minutes to fill her in while Giles, ever attentive, examined her to look for any major injuries. By the time Buffy finished, Faith was still staring at Duncan, who was growing visibly uncomfortable at the attention. Buffy nudged her to attract her attention and commented archly, "You can't be too badly banged up if you can devote all that attention to Duncan, Faith."   
  
Faith grinned and replied, "I guess you're right, B." She frowned, then continued, "I don't mind telling you I'm damn lucky to be in as good shape as I am." She spent the next ten minutes recounting the fight outside the cemetery, leaving nothing out but her fear of the lightning-the last thing she needed was Giles or Buffy doing the shrink thing on her. "She was wicked fast, Buffy. I thought for a minute that someone had slipped me a dose of the Mickey that the Council zapped you with."   
  
Buffy saw Giles' face distort in guilt and locked eyes with him to get him to get himself together. When Buffy had told Faith of the events surrounding her loss of powers, she told her everything-except that it was Giles who gave her the drugs that disabled her. She had also instructed the rest of her friends to never tell Faith that fact. Buffy had basically made peace with Giles for his role in the fiasco, though she would not forget, and she didn't want Faith to lose confidence in the only authority figure that she seemed to respect at all, particularly since the direct threat to Faith from the Council had been neutralized. She nodded to Faith and asked, "Did she say anything to you?"   
  
"No. . .wait a minute." The younger Slayer seemed to be reaching for a memory, then nodded, "Yeah. She looked at me funny, then said . . .what the hell was it. . .peck ka wuh . . .or something like it. Didn't ring any bells."   
  
Giles strode into his office, his expression suggesting that he had just remembered something. He came out with one of the many Watcher's diaries stored in his desk. "Was it peccavi, Faith?", he asked, flipping through several pages as he spoke.   
  
Faith frowned again and nodded, "Yeah, that's it. What does it mean?"   
  
"I have sinned." Everyone turned to Willow, who had spoken. Looking embarrassed,   
Xander commented, "Yes, we know, Willow. But we've all agreed to let bygones be bygones, right?" Willow looked at him with restrained irritation.   
  
Giles clucked with annoyance and clarified, "No, Xander, she's just given the correct translation from Latin. Peccavi means literally "I have sinned." He opened the diary to a drawing of a young woman and showed it to Faith. "Is this the woman you saw?"   
  
Faith's angry expression spoke volumes, and she clarified by stating, "Yeah, that's the bitch. What's she doing in one of those moldy old Watcher's diaries? Is she a demon?"   
  
Duncan shook his head in confusion and replied, "No. From your story, Faith, it appears that she is one of my kind-an Immortal. What is a picture of an Immortal doing in an old Watcher's diary, Giles?"   
  
Giles hesitated for a moment, then replied bluntly: "This is the only known drawing of Alyssa-the Immortal Slayer."   
  
. . .to be continued  
As always, comments are welcome and desired.   
  



	5. Part V

Part V  
  
  
"This is the only known drawing of Alyssa-the Immortal Slayer."   
  
Giles' words struck Buffy like a gut punch. In spite of her often-expressed dislike for research, she spent a little time each week looking into the fate of the Slayers who had preceded her, memorizing names, faces, histories, and the fates that ultimately befell them. She had learned of over a hundred, and she had still only gone back about one hundred and fifty years. Kendra's dead face flashed before her again, and her voice was harsh as she turned to Giles and snapped, "No such thing, Giles."   
  
There was a moment of silence, and Giles' face bore an expression of utmost sympathy as he replied, "In this one case, there is." He turned the diary to its beginning, and handed it to Buffy. She squinted, then began to read the diary's contents to the attentive group.   
  
THE DIARY OF REGINALD DANVERS, WATCHER   
  
April 10, 1567   
  
I met Alyssa today. She is eight, and she is to be a Slayer, should that which is good choose to call her. She is tall for her age, and her physical skills are far beyond what is typical for even would-be Slayers. Even better, she is a bright child, and loves to talk about things that interest her. From what I hear, her family is noble, and they wish her to eventually enter a convent. Should she never be called, that is where she will end up, for she is quite pious and already knows the Bible from cover to cover (how strange, to know such a young girl who reads!).   
  
Of course, she is too young to know of her possible fate yet, and thinks of her preliminary weapons training as simple amusement. . . yet, she is supremely gifted. I fear that I may someday have nothing to teach her, even before she is called! Well, that is not a problem yet. . .   
  
June 27, 1574   
  
Alyssa was called yesterday. How wonderful it was to see the flush in her cheeks as the true measure of her power entered her body! We were already evenly matched before she received the Call; now, I could not even slow her down with any weapon we cared to test. . .she laughed out loud as she easily bested me with my best weapon, the quarterstaff. Let the undead beware-Alyssa will wreak more havoc than any Slayer before her!   
  
Buffy looked up and commented, "Looks upbeat so far. When does the Immortal angle kick in?" Giles looked over her shoulder, flipped a few dozen pages, and pointed. Buffy looked and began to read again . . .   
  
August 23, 1578   
  
  
My heart is heavy today: I feel that I may weep. Alyssa, my Slayer, the best hope of us all. . .is dead. I was helpless to prevent it. She fought Zaedorz, the master vampire, on top of a high cliff overlooking the Thames. As I watched, I saw her stake him, only to lose her balance and fall over a hundred feet into the river below. I ran over to the spot, hoping to save her, only to see her head violently strike a rock and her body be washed into the rapid current. I jumped in and swam furiously, only to see her recede into the distance without showing signs of life. I raged at the fickle fates that would take my Alyssa from me this way, but they ignored my ravings. Alas!   
  
September 22, 1578   
  
A thing so astonishing as to almost stop my heart has happened today. .. Alyssa is alive! I was working in my study, finishing the archiving process for the information we had accumulated during Alyssa's time as the Slayer to pass on to her successor when I heard a knock on the door. I opened the door and gasped in shock. . .there she was! Frightened, wearing torn and wet clothing, but she was alive!  
  
She began to weep when she saw me, and I am not ashamed to say I wept also as I embraced her. I led her into the study, and she began to tell her story. She had woken up on the bank of the Thames, apparently uninjured but several miles down-river. She had wandered about for a while, confused, only to be accosted by a man with a sword who attacked her with intent to kill. She was forced to kill him in self-defense, breaking his neck. She noticed the wounds she received healed almost immediately, and was wondering about the meaning of this when the man apparently rose from the dead and attacked her again. She disarmed him this time and used his sword to decapitate him. A marvelous display of lightning then followed, which made her feel strangely empowered. At length, she left the area and came back to my dwelling.   
  
"What has happened to me?" she pleaded, staring into my eyes with a pleading look. I knew, but I dreaded telling her. From her description, Alyssa was now one of the Deathless Ones. . .the Immortals. When I told her of her fate, and what it entailed, a look of horror entered her eyes. She wailed as if she was being burned alive. . .then she turned to the door and fled, ignoring my desperate pleadings to stop. I followed her into the night, only to hear her tormented wails fading into the distance. My anguish is without bounds. . .I know in my heart that I will never see her again.   
  
Buffy looked through the last few pages of the diary, then looked up. "Okay, and he didn't." She looked at Giles with a puzzled expression, "What had her so freaked out? Immortality sounds fine by me, particularly in this line of work."   
  
Giles smiled sympathetically, looking at Buffy and Faith with a sad expression. "For you and Faith, perhaps. But it wouldn't be perfect even for you. . .remember the Slayer code against killing?"   
  
Buffy's expression turned from puzzled to pained as she remembered the terrible guilt she had felt when she thought she had killed that mom-fondling psycho Ted, even though he had started the whole thing. She nodded and replied, "I understand."   
  
Giles nodded, noting with some concern that Faith seemed less disturbed, but deciding to overlook it for the moment. He continued, "It was even worse for Alyssa. She was raised in a sect of Christianity that completely eschewed violence against humans, although obviously it was willing to make allowances for demons. Being an Immortal doomed Alyssa to an existence where she had to kill over and over again in order to survive. It has had to be maddening for her."   
Duncan felt compelled to interrupt. "Giles, the rules of the Game forbid combat on holy ground. Why didn't Alyssa just stay on holy ground, since she had no interest in the Game due to her temperament?"   
  
Giles replied, "She tried. . .but there was another imperative driving her. She was the Slayer, after all. . . it was her sworn duty to slay demons, and not many stray onto holy ground. She would venture out to slay, and Immortals would inevitably find her. . .and die."   
  
Duncan frowned and commented, "I have a contact or two in the organization that keeps track of Immortals. Perhaps they could give us some useful information about Alyssa." He went to the phone and dialed a long-distance number. He passed on the information to the party on the other end and waited for a few minutes before the phone rang. He picked up the receiver and said, "Okay. . .interesting. . .got it. . .thanks, Joe." Hanging up, he turned to the waiting group and reported, "Alyssa was last seen in Salt Lake City three months ago, and she was clearly moving west before then. It's got to be her."   
  
Buffy interrupted, wondering what the problem was. "Uh, guys? What's the problem here? It sounds like she only attacks Immortals who attack her, and she definitely could kick some demon ass. If we can get her to stop pounding on innocent bystanders-" Faith snorted at this, provoking an amused grin by Buffy-"then why don't we just let her be?"   
  
Giles' expression had shifted to one of extreme concern, and he obviously was considering his words carefully before replying. "The problem is that Alyssa has, for whatever reason, arrived at the place where the most dangerous demons in the world reside. Any of them would love to get their claws into Alyssa, for reasons that Duncan brought up in the story involving Angel." He cleared his throat, then continued, "Buffy, you have reason to know that the blood of a Slayer has a great deal of intrinsic power."   
  
Buffy winced, remembering teeth in her throat and the gloating of the Master as she fell into the pool. "Yeah, I guess I do."   
  
Giles walked over and put his hand on her shoulder as he continued, "Duncan's unfortunate experience with Angelus demonstrates that the blood of an Immortal also contains great power." He looked at the others to communicate the gravity of his words as he continued, "The power to be had from the blood of a Slayer who was also an Immortal would be. . .inconceivable, and also a renewable resource that could theoretically supercharge dozens, if not hundreds, of vampires or other demons."   
  
Buffy thought back to the rather mediocre vampire who had pummeled her under the influence of Duncan's blood and winced. She got to her feet and paced, her mind racing furiously. She looked to Giles and burst out, "Wait! Who is going to stop her? If she could put down Faith that easily, what vamp is going to take her out?"   
  
Duncan coughed and replied, "Buffy, any thug with a gun can put one of us down if they get the drop on us. Not a problem ordinarily, but if the thug is a vamp in the know. . ." He looked intently at her, reminding her of the incident in the park.   
  
Buffy's face turned grim, and she started for the door. "Then we've got to find her before they do."   
  
. . .to be continued  
  
As always, comments are welcomed and desired.  
  



	6. Part VI

Part VI  
  
MAYOR WILKINS' OFFICE-FIVE MINUTES LATER  
  
Mayor Wilkins picked up the phone on the first ring and listened to the frantic voice on the other end for thirty seconds before commenting, "Doug, you're sounding too tense. You're not getting enough roughage in your diet, are you?" The voice on the line turned confused, then apologetic. Wilkins listened, then interrupted again, "Don't worry. . .good job on getting that information to me. . .oh, and about the roughage. . .go find a homeless person-plenty of fiber there. Bye." He put down the receiver and pressed the black button on his desk.  
  
A moment later, Mr. Trick walked in, all business. "What's up, Mr. Mayor?"  
  
Wilkins smiled and replied, "Yes, something interesting has come up. But where are my manners?" He picked up the plate on his desk and offered it to Trick: "Celery stick?"  
  
With supreme effort, Trick repressed the nasty remark that came to mind and kept his tone businesslike. "No thank you, Mr. Mayor."  
  
The Mayor smiled and put the plate down, commenting "No, I don't suppose you would. Still, I've been eating these things for decades, and I've never been healthier." He smirked and chuckled, "That will be changing soon, though." He frowned and got to the point. "Mr. Trick, do you know about Immortals?"  
  
The vampire frowned and nodded. "Yeah, I've heard of those crazy bastards. Go figure. . .you're Immortal, you can walk around in the daylight and everything without having people try to stake you, and all those chumps want to do is hack each other's heads off. And they say demons have a weird outlook on life. What about them?"  
  
Wilkins smiled and asked another question. "Have you ever heard of the Immortal Slayer?"  
  
Trick shuddered and replied, "No, and I don't think I want to. That Buffy chick and her nasty little playmate Faith are causing enough trouble without having to deal with an Immortal version. What's the story?"  
  
Wilkins took a few minutes to explain, including the fact that Alyssa had been seen killing an Immortal earlier that evening, along with her casual trashing of Faith soon after. Trick whistled and commented, "This sounds like a problem, Mr. Mayor. How are we going to deal with it?"  
  
Wilkins clucked and shook his head. "Mr. Trick, you are a worthy assistant, but until you change your perspective on these things, you are not going to ready to go out on your own." Annoyed, Trick began to retort only to be stopped by the Mayor's raised hand as he continued, "What you see as an obstacle, I see as an opportunity. The blood of the Immortal Slayer is an immense source of power. I can tap it to improve the outcome of my Ascension, and those who are close to me can benefit also. Am I making myself understood?"  
  
Trick smiled: this guy was finally making real sense. "You have my undivided attention."  
  
The Mayor nodded and ordered, "Take fifteen of your best fighters out with you and find her. Bring her to me."  
  
Trick frowned and responded, "No problem, but if this bitch is as nasty as you say, aren't we going to take serious casualties?"  
  
The Mayor got up from his desk and opened a cabinet, while explaining, "The fifteen vampires with you will take care of any heat you get from interfering Slayers and their friends." He pulled a scoped hunting rifle and tossed it to Trick along with a box of bullets. "I'm leaving the incapacitation of Alyssa to your fully capable hands."  
  
Trick hefted the rifle, loaded it, and nodded to Wilkins, commenting with a grin, "It'll be my pleasure, boss."  
  
TALLOWHILE CEMETERY: THIRTY MINUTES LATER  
  
Duncan's eyes swept across the line of trees that blocked further visibility, carefully searching for signs of their quarry. His paranormal senses were silent, assuring him that there were no Immortals nearby, but he was not inclined to relax, knowing that there were vampires everywhere in this place. He looked out at his allies. Buffy stalked the perimeter like an angry panther, ever vigilant for signs of danger. Faith, the younger Slayer, was calmer: Duncan had the impression that she drew more enjoyment from the work than Buffy did . . .he didn't know whether that was good or bad. Oz and Willow walked together, quietly discussing something-he gathered that they were a couple. Xander was also extremely vigilant, scanning all around him while keeping a stake and a vial of holy water at the ready; remarkably, the teenager seemed to have the instincts of a trained soldier. Giles carried a crossbow and several stakes, along with a small bag containing God knew what-he also seemed fully alert. As for his former nemesis . . .he trailed Buffy at a distance of about ten feet. Occasionally, Buffy would bark a question at him, and Angel would calmly answer, mollifying her. My God, he really is completely different now, he thought, his behavior would have been totally inconceivable from the old Angelus. He dismissed the thought as he felt a tingling in his paranormal senses. He called out; "Wait!" and the others halted, waiting for an explanation.  
  
A little experimentation on his part produced a direction, and they followed him, Buffy at his side and Angel trailing at a discreet distance. They found her in a small park, sitting on a bench with her head in her hands. Buffy looked at Duncan and asked, "Okay, now what?"  
  
Duncan replied, "Let me talk to her . . .perhaps I can convince her to talk to us on holy ground, so that she can feel safe." Buffy looked at her new friend and was concerned-if Alyssa attacked; he would likely be overwhelmed as quickly as Faith was, if not faster. "Are you sure, Duncan? I don't want to see you dead . . .twice in one night is quite enough, thank you."  
  
Duncan chuckled under his breath, admiring the dedication of the young woman as he did so. "It's my place, Buffy. Remember, you must not interfere if she chooses to attack me . . .that is the foremost rule we have lived by for thousands of years." Buffy met his gaze and reluctantly nodded. Duncan walked to within fifty feet of the Immortal Slayer and called out softly, "Alyssa."  
  
The woman looked up and met Duncan's eyes with her own. The crazed look that Faith had described was still there, and a pang of fear touched his heart. Gathering his courage, he called out again, "Alyssa. We want to help you . . .to protect from that which is driving you mad."  
  
The Immortal Slayer laughed, and there was the taint of insanity in the sound. "You . . .help . . .me? What a cosmic joke that is. For centuries, I have tried to fulfill my duties as the Slayer, without ally or hope. Immortal after Immortal has challenged me and died, thusly endangering my immortal soul for my sin in killing them. Do you know how many times I have been tempted to lay down my blade and let one of them strike me down? But suicide would damn me to hell forever. I could cloister myself in a church, but then I would be prevented from practicing my Calling. I am doomed to eternal torment, perhaps no less than I would face in Hell, but this is the world I know, and I must play my part." Alyssa drew her blade with a speed that astonished Duncan and pointed it at him. "Leave me and never return, or surely I will kill you."  
  
"Alyssa, wait. Listen to me."  
  
Duncan whirled to see Buffy walking up beside him, with Faith about twenty feet behind, waiting silently. He looked sternly at her and snapped, "Buffy! You must not interfere!"  
  
Buffy met his angry gaze with a quiet one of her own and replied, "She hasn't attacked you yet, has she? Besides, I think a change of approach is called for." She walked to within twenty feet of the Immortal Slayer and asked, "Alyssa, do you know what I am?"  
  
The taller woman stared at Buffy for a long moment before her eyes widened, and Buffy could see the sanity returning to them as her paranormal senses fed her an astonishing conclusion. After a moment, she replied, "You are. . .a Chosen One! " She looked past Buffy at the waiting Faith and confusion ruled her expression, ". . .so is that one. How can that be?"  
  
Buffy walked to within ten feet of Alyssa and began speaking again, strong emotion in her voice: "It's a long story, but I'd be glad to tell you, if you'd only be willing to listen. Alyssa, I've been the Slayer for nearly four years. I've suffered many hardships, but I know they are pretty much nothing compared to what you've put up with. The problem is, just by being what you are, you are a tempting target to the creatures who call this place "home". If they catch you, you are in for a long time of horrible torture, and I don't think I could bear that happening to you. Won't you come with us to holy ground, so that we can talk about this without worrying about any Immortals who might come by wanting your head?"  
  
Alyssa looked at the young Slayer, and Buffy could see a tinge of wild hope in her eyes, only to see it vanish behind a cloud of cynicism. Alyssa snorted contemptuously and snapped, "Why should you want to help me? I'm just another Slayer whose time has past. Better to forget about me and bury me in some unmarked grave."  
  
Tears came to Buffy's eyes as she heard the Immortal Slayer's words, then an immense anger rose to the surface. "Damn it, Alyssa. I spend hours every week learning about the Slayers who preceded me! I see their faces in my dreams. . .most of them died horribly, without hope of rescue or even assistance. My friend Kendra the Slayer died in my arms-I'll probably never get over that. But damn it, you're Immortal! Don't you get it. . .you've been a Slayer for four hundred years! Don't you think you have something to offer that doesn't involve you being killed by a vampire or being given a really short haircut? When I see you, I see hope! Please, can't we at least talk about it?"  
  
Faith walked up beside Buffy and squeezed her arm before chiming in: "B's got it right, sister. I'm not thrilled that you chose to pound on me, but from what I hear you've had a rough time of it. I can identify. A pow-wow might be worth your time, don't you think?"  
  
Alyssa put away her sword without apparent thought, and stood silent for a long moment before looking back at Buffy and Faith. "Very well, Chosen Ones. I do not guarantee that I will agree to what you propose, but I will listen. Take me to holy ground."  
  
Duncan released the tension that caused his entire body to ache while he listened to the exchange between the three Slayers. Now all we need to do is get her to holy ground, he thought while looking around for the nearest route to a mausoleum.  
  
Abruptly, Alyssa was knocked to the ground, and a red stain spread over her heart as a rifle shot crackled. Duncan sprang forward and reached the stricken Immortal, only to see that the wound would be temporarily mortal. Alyssa met his gaze and he could tell she knew that he had not betrayed her as the light left her eyes. Angrily, he got up and looked around, noting that the others were already efficiently searching around them looking for the assailants.  
  
Buffy had spotted the ever-annoying Mr. Trick with a hunting rifle and tensed against the prospect of further bullets coming inbound. But Trick dropped the rifle, apparently realizing that it would be useless in close quarters. He whistled, and fifteen vampires broke cover and joined him as he walked towards the Slayers and their allies. When they were within thirty feet of the group of White Hats, Trick called out, "We've got you dead to rights, Slayers. Leave the body, and you'll make it through this night alive. If not, dinner time for us." He grinned, and asked:  
  
"What's it going to be."  
  
To be continued. . .   
  
As before, comments are welcome and desired.  
  
M. Scott Eiland  
  



	7. Part VII

Part VII  
  
"What's it going to be." Trick was feeling smug: he hadn't even bothered to assume his game face as he offered the Slayers and their friends that nasty choice. He was taken aback when Buffy moved almost faster than the eye could follow, throwing something. Trick cringed, only to hear a scream to his left. He sighed and yelled "Attack!" As the remaining fourteen vampires moved forward, Trick turned to his left and saw a pile of dust. Poor Doug. At least the Mayor wouldn't be bugging him any more about getting more roughage in his diet.  
  
Trick watched as his crew split up just as he had ordered them to. Three engaged Buffy, who assumed a defensive posture, using the nearby trees to prevent being surrounded. Three went after Faith: the younger Slayer attacked with an abandon that impressed Trick. . .still, she was taking return shots that would wear on her. Three went after Angel, whom he knew to be a serious badass. Two went after MacLeod (Trick didn't know who he was, but he could see the dude was carrying a sword), one went after Giles (for a guy who spent his days with his nose in a book, he could kick ass pretty well: he had intended to send two after him, but Doug was no longer available for duty), and one after Buffy's other three friends (the two boys were decent fighters, but the girl was no factor). Lastly, he assigned Andrew, who was strong but not too bright, to grabbing the incapacitated Slayer and taking her to the Mayor. He watched for about twenty seconds and saw that his boys were gradually wearing down the White Hats. His sense of smugness was rapidly returning when he heard the dying scream of a vampire. Where had that come from? He turned and saw. . .uh oh.  
  
Alyssa the Immortal Slayer stood over the dissipating dust that had been Andrew. Her sword was out and incandescent anger blossomed in her eyes. With the speed and ferocity of a whirlwind, she began attacking the other vampires, starting with the ones attacking Buffy's less capable friends. Trick looked back at the rifle lying on the ground one hundred yards away and began calculating odds. It took but a moment for him to realize he didn't like the answer. He quietly slipped away, already beginning to compose the excuse he would make for the failure. The Mayor would not be happy at all.  
  
With Alyssa's help, the vampires began to die rapidly. When the survivors found themselves outnumbered, they decided en masse to flee. Eyes blazing, Alyssa started to follow, only to be restrained by Buffy: "Alyssa, wait. You could run right into a trap, and the whole point of this was to keep you alive and out of their hands." Buffy looked at the fleeing vampires and chuckled, "Besides, I think they'll be off the streets for a while." Buffy looked up at the older Slayer and said simply, "Thank you. You probably saved all of our lives just now, and I don't forget something like that."  
  
Buffy could see tears in Alyssa's eyes as she looked back at her younger counterpart. "No, thank you. After so long, to have hope again is a gift beyond all others." She looked at the others and asked, "Can we go to holy ground now? I gather there is a plan to discuss."  
  
Giles cleared his throat and offered, "The library is built over holy ground, so it should serve." He turned to Buffy and asked, "Do you have a plan, Buffy?"  
  
Buffy sighed and looked annoyed, staring at her feet as she kicked at the ground. "Yeah, I do. But I'm not going to like what it takes, and neither will Faith." Faith's eyebrows quirked up at Buffy's comment, but she remained silent. Giles frowned and asked, "What do you have in mind that could be so unpleasant?"  
  
Buffy sighed again and explained, "Faith and I will be making a long-distance phone call to England."  
  
SUNNYDALE HIGH LIBRARY, ONE HOUR LATER  
  
". . .all right, so the two tickets will be at Sunnydale Airport for the noon flight tomorrow. Good. All right. Ba-bye." Buffy slammed down the receiver with sufficient force to make Giles fear for its survival. He walked over to her and put his hand supportively on her shoulder. Buffy looked up at him and smiled wistfully. "That was hard." She looked up at her mentor and commented, "It couldn't have been easy for you either, after what they did to you."  
Giles frowned and replied, "No, it wasn't. But ultimately my status with the Council will be for me to resolve, not you. They did great harm to you, Buffy. I'm very proud of you for your willingness to set it aside for Alyssa's sake."  
Buffy nodded and responded, "I owed it to her." She looked at him and remembered something. "I told them that they better learn to be responsive to requests from Sunnydale for help, or they could damn well sit on their hands until the next Slayer came along. Faith told them the same thing, using rather choicer language. They said that in a few days, it would no longer be a problem. What do you figure they meant?"  
  
Giles frowned and replied, "I don't know," though he had his suspicions. The two of them walked out of Giles' office and saw their friends eagerly waiting for the news. Alyssa stood uncomfortably next to the checkout counter and waited patiently for Buffy to reveal the news.  
  
Buffy smiled at Alyssa and revealed what they had all been waiting for: "The Council wants to take you to England to put you under their protection. They want to know what you have learned in your 'many years in the field', as the stuffy guy Faith and I spoke to on the phone put it. They also might want you to help train future Slayers. . .you probably have picked up a few tricks that we could use. Most importantly, they have places to stay that are on holy ground. . .you would be safe and comfortable while you helped us try to save the world. Not a bad gig, wouldn't you say?"  
  
Alyssa was silent for a moment, and Buffy feared that she would reject the offer. Abruptly, Alyssa threw her arms around the startled Slayer and hugged her so tight that breathing became an issue. Realizing the problem, Alyssa let go and looked at Buffy with tear filled eyes. "Oh, Buffy. . ." , then turned to the nearby Faith, ". . .Faith, thank you so much. You can't imagine. . ."  
  
Buffy smiled grimly and replied, "Yes, I can." She looked over at Faith and saw that she was feeling exactly the same way.  
  
OUTSIDE DUNCAN'S MOTEL: 4:30 AM  
  
Duncan was starting to feel tired, it had been a long day, and he would need to be up early to serve as Alyssa's escort on the noon flight to England. The Council had requested a chance to interview him for historical interest reasons, and he had agreed on the condition that he be allowed to examine some of their historical records on Immortals. . .they might have something that Joe couldn't get for him.   
  
Only five of them were left. Alyssa was to spend the night at Giles' apartment, on the grounds that vampires were a bigger threat to her than Immortals right now. Willow and Oz had retired for the night, after good-byes for Alyssa and Duncan. Duncan, Faith, Xander, and Buffy stood in the parking lot of Duncan's motel, with Angel standing off at some distance in deference to Duncan's feelings. Xander was about to say something when he noticed Buffy had a certain expression on her face, the one that meant she was about to unburden herself about something. He had a hunch that it didn't involve him, so he turned to Faith and suggested, "Why don't I walk you home, Faith?"  
  
Faith raised an eyebrow and turned to Xander. "Since when do I need an escort, Xa-". She stopped as she noticed the expression on Buffy's face too, and sighed, "All right, maybe it would be safer. . ." She took his arm and called out to the older Slayer, "'nite, B." She looked at Duncan and purred, "If you're ever around here again, call me." Xander followed Faith after nodding to Buffy and Duncan and calling over to the brooding figure "'nite, Dead Boy." They walked off, and Buffy thought she heard Faith commenting, "What's making you so assertive all of a sudden. . .?"  
  
Buffy turned to Duncan, only to see him watching the departing pair quizzically. "What was that all about?"  
  
Buffy shook her head ruefully and replied, "I don't know and I don't want to know." She looked at Duncan carefully, and he could see pain in her eyes as she said, "Duncan, there's something I need to tell you. . .something I held back when I was telling you about Angel." Duncan saw the waiting vampire tense up, then look down in abject shame. He listened Buffy tell the story of how Angelus had returned, including what had caused it, and the months of horror that had followed. When she had finished, tears stood in her eyes, and Duncan could see that Angel's emotional state was similar. He felt no anger, only sadness for what this wonderful young woman and, yes, what Angel had gone through. Buffy finished by saying, "I just thought you had a right to know. . .I'm sorry I held back, but we needed to stick together as a group, and I thought that this might keep us from being able to work together."  
  
Duncan took a deep breath and turned to the figure waiting in the darkness. "Angel, come over here." The vampire, looking puzzled, walked up to the Immortal. Duncan looked at him and stated flatly, "Angel, you fought well tonight, and for the right side. Where I come from, that meant something. Also, anyone that this very special young woman is in love with obviously is worth having as a friend." He offered his hand, and Angel clasped it firmly. Duncan released his grip after a moment, then his face turned stern: "Keep custody of your soul, Angel. If I hear that Angelus walks the earth again, he will die by my hand." Angel nodded at that and turned to Buffy, "I'd better get inside, the sun will be up in a while." He nodded to Duncan and vanished into the darkness.  
  
Duncan turned back to Buffy, who was smiling and shaking her head. "Where did you get your sense of perspective, anyway?"  
  
He smiled and replied, "Easy. Just live three or four centuries and it comes naturally." He yawned and apologized, "If I'm going to play escort to Alyssa, I'm going to need some sleep. It's been interesting, Buffy. Perhaps our paths will cross again."  
  
Buffy smiled and said, "That would be fine by me. . . but would you do me a favor? Give me a call to let me know you're coming, so that I don't have to fight any more hopped-up vampires, okay?" They both laughed at this, then Buffy offered her hand to Duncan. Instead, he leaned down, brushed the hair from her forehead, and kissed her there as a father might when he tucked his daughter in for the night. He looked at her one more time and whispered, "Be careful, Buffy." Without another word, he turned away and entered his room, closing the door.  
  
The Slayer stood in the parking lot for a long moment, moved by the gesture the Immortal had made. After a moment, she shook her head at the weirdness of things and began the long walk home.  
  
  
Epilogue  
  
WATCHERS' COUNCIL COMPOUND: LONDON, ENGLAND   
  
The Watcher listened as the commotion surrounding the arrival of the Immortal Slayer echoed about the complex of buildings maintained by the Council. He knew she was staying in a small cottage erected on holy ground more than three centuries before. The cottage was two hundred yards away, well out the range of her ability to detect him. He would have to be careful and patient, but five centuries of life had taught him both. Sooner or later, her guard would drop, and he would have the opportunity to surprise her, with wonderful results for him. In the end. . .there could be only one. . .and taking the Quickening of the Immortal Slayer would be a promising means of making sure that the one was him.   
  
  
  
As before, comments are welcome and desired.  
  
  
I am not as of now planning a follow-up story, but if I receive sufficient requests from readers who enjoyed this, I may give it a shot, perhaps in the setting of the fourth season once we see the shape that it is taking.  
  
  
M. Scott Eiland  
  



End file.
